Color of Fire

By JMW

The people of Pimsler, Colorado, never much believed in a boogieman—especially not some monster living under their beds. They thought they could stay safe by turning a blind eye to the reality of wicked people who paraded themselves in the light of goodness. They thought they’d be okay, but they were wrong. It turns out the boogieman is real, and he’s everywhere.

In cities across America and the world, good citizens turn their backs on what’s right in the name of safety and security. There are plenty of folks like that in Pimsler, but things are about to change. A Bible teacher, a corrupted minister, a prominent businessman, and a gritty cop are in the midst of a twisted plot that captures innocent children and pushes the limits of the righteous beyond what any person thought possible.

Good men are desperate to save not only lives but souls, too. This is a divine battle, fought on the Colorado streets. But even if the brave few of Pimsler can stop the spread of evil in their own neighborhood, the chase must go on to capture the evil that steals, lies, and kills. Christ wants to capture the hearts of the disillusioned, but is it too late?

• Language: English
• Publisher: iUniverse
• Release date: Sep 19, 2017
• ISBN: 9781532023354

JMW

JMW is currently a successful entrepreneur. Previously a police officer and is a former marine. He is a graduate of seminary school and an ordained minister. He lives and works all across the county.

Book preview

PROLOGUE

He stood in a recessed doorway soaked to the bone watching his subjects herd a group of young girls into to a building. The girls were no more than 18 and ranged from, his best guess 13, although the one he was after was only 11 years old. Cole felt that old devil (or maybe it was an Angel, as his sister kept telling him) inside him raising its head; happened every time Cole witnessed evil perpetrated on the innocent…especially the young. He waited patiently. Not even the devil could push Cole before he was ready. His team was in route and he knew his time had come to retrieve what he had traveled the 2,000 miles for.

It was raining and raining hard! Cole had not seen rain like this in years. Good, he thought, they might just sit this storm out long enough for us to do our thing.

He waited in a corner restaurante called Abarrotes Universidad, he guessed they named it that because there was a University off of Paseo Ninos Heroes and Nicola’s Braveo, a block or so away. He thought, how apropos, these bad guys brought kidnapped victims to an area of Culiacan that had a preparatory school and a university. No one would pay any attention to a bunch of kids being transported from one place to another and shuffled in and out of buildings; especially off a street named the Passage of Child Heroes. His blood was beginning to boil.

THE SAME DAY

Eighteen hundred miles to the North a different kind of gathering was taking place, another young and promising girl looking haggard and beleaguered; her tears overflowed on a face that carried the fear of innocents trapped by destructive heresies. Joan wondered what on earth was happening. It seemed girl after girl was confessing to sexual sins. Joan kept thinking, I’m just a Bible teacher. I see these kids on Sunday morning and that’s it. What’s going on?

The truth was that Joan was so compelling in the classes she taught at the Pimsler Community Bible Church that the Word shown like a beacon from a lighthouse and these kids were responding to her teachings. The Holy Spirit was working overtime on them. But something dark, almost sinister was happening that Joan could not put her finger on. The pain was too great, too deep, and too emotional. Her heart was breaking over these girls.

But as was all things made by man, Pimsler had a dark side, a profound sadness that could not be comforted. As God spoke of Egypt, There shall be a great cry in all the land of Egypt, such as there has not been before and such as never will be again. For what will come to light will terrify the mighty and horrify the weak. Only God can vanquish some evil and Pimsler’s cup had been full for too long.

1

Beauty does not always guarantee peace.

Joan moved to the mountains of Colorado 18 months ago and settled into a pristine community surrounded by purple mountains, clean air, deep, green pastures… looking almost manicured and skies so blue one would loose themselves in the depth of the expanse. She had not witnessed such beauty. This town of Pimsler, Colorado was voted the prettiest town in the State and best place to raise a family. Joan relocated to Pimsler, due to a corporate head hunter, looking for a Human Resource Manager for that area. Joan Cusiak, being an avid outdoors person and loving the beauty of God’s high mountain creation, jumped at the chance to work in Pimslar. She had left everything and started a new life that brought her much needed peace, along with a new lease on life that she was sharing with about 25 girls on Sunday mornings and a night or sometimes two during the week. Her last position in the Great State of Georgia almost killed her. The heat and humidity was at times unbearable, not to mention the grueling working hours. But the true pain came from the divorce that had devastated her. The loss of love and hope. The pain of constant reminders of places and things, debilitated her days and memories. A thirty-something, attractive, professional woman, starting over. She was ill from depression, the heat and humidity most of the time; and when the opportunity of cool Colorado came up she had no hesitation what-so-ever. She sold furniture, some of her cloths and other furnishings just to expedite the move. She was so completely ready that she accepted the job after the first visit to Pimsler and a tentative offer from G.B. Booker Manufacturing Company.

After 18 months Joan was nested down completely. She built her life around her and all those she loved and she loved everybody. She drew people to her like bugs to a blue light bug zapper on a moonless night, but of course the attraction was mutual. Joan made homemade soup for the sick, cookies for the kids at church and cakes for all the bake sales. She had her garden of herbs and veggies in the back yard. Always had an excellent recipe, with a good cup of coffee for her girlfriends and fresh herbs for those who were ailing. Once Joan settled into the new career and her new found church; she gave herself completely to the body of believers. Not because they needed her so much but because she needed them. After all there are none immune to what chases humanity (and Joan was running like the rest of us even if she did not know she was running). As soon as the Brothers and Sisters saw her talents and that she used them everywhere for the cause of Christ, they began the We need Joan campaigns. Before long the Preacher couldn’t do without her and added to her list of, Hey, Joan can you help me with this. In the same period it took to settle in, Ms. Joan had become the Patron Saint of Pimsler, Colorado. Loving life in the body of Christ, just where she wanted to be!

And one fateful day she was asked to teach the high school girls Bible class on Sunday morning. No one knew it but life was about to change for the whole church. The rumblings would be felt all the way to the State Capitol…

2

Your adversary, the devil, prowls about like a roaring lion seeking someone to devour.

I just wish it was that easy to see him.

In every community the clean co-exist with the dirty; the good with the bad and the righteous with the evil. Pimsler was no different. This was not an across the tracks sort of thing. This was a wicked sort of thing. You do not see it in day light so much and if you do you often don’t recognize it. But if it is at night or dark and shadowy then you feel it more than see it. But don’t kid yourself you can see evil … and evil can see you.

Pimsler was beautiful like a queen dressed in her robes of glory, imitating the Egyptian royalty that had gold threads woven into their clothes so that they would sparkle and dupe the people into believing that they were gods.

Streets were swept every night and often washed with river water drawn from the nearby Colorado. The buildings were always freshly painted with only the City’s paint standard in mind. Down town had flower pots and convenient trash receptacles placed at appropriate distances throughout the entire city. Clean was important if Pimslar was to live up to the coveted standard of the most beautiful town in the west. Signage was a key also… not too tall, not too gaudy; had to match the city’s code, all had to look alike or close enough alike to lend to the beauty. Even the residential areas of the City were strictly coded and regulated from the style of houses built to the plants, landscaping, grass, trees and the type and style of fencing. The whole City seemed to be under a home owners’ association of sorts. If you did not comply procedures were in place that would… well… assist you in compliance. Perhaps the town ideals were not as militaristic as it seemed to Joan at the time, but it was clear that there was even restrictions on outside materials or suppliers. The citizenry were forbidden to bring in outside labor to assist in any construction. All in all, the regulations were for the good of the town of course, so as to keep all working for the betterment of the community. "We share and share alike. We take care of our own’, said the Mayor in an afternoon speech on one of Pimsler’s ‘High’ days. Keeping things orderly and at peace created the atmosphere of, well, Pimsler.

And so, life went on in Pimsler and Joan’s excitement for life grew in her glorious chosen city. What a place Pimsler, Colorado is!

3

Culiacan, Mexico 2113hrs

Rain was falling harder now. It had not let up since he arrived almost 4 hours ago. He knew there could be any number of doors that these guys could remove the one he came after through but he was betting that the weather just might keep them still a little longer.

His ear piece crackled, BC, you copy?

Read you 5 by 5, what’s your ETA? His entire team had dubbed him BC. Newbies thought it meant that he had been doing this so long that the team nicked named him BC which newbies took to mean ‘Before Christ’, nothing so cryptic, just his initials which stood for, Brady Cole. Brady Cole Williams often felt he had been doing this type of work Before Christ and with his luck was probably going to be doing it after Christ’s return as well.

3 clicks out. Came the response from the encrypted radio answered by his best and most respected friend, Wayne Gilford. Wayne and BC went back to the Marine Corps days where Wayne had picked up the name Hatch. During one of their deployments Wayne’s pack snagged during an exit from an armored personal vehicle hatch. As he forced himself out of the hatch he fell to the ground, with the pack coming over his head knocking his helmet off and losing his hold on his weapon. Totally discombobulated. By the time he regained his control the fight was over. He never lived it down. Wayne was not over weight, he was just huge. Thick, massive and at that time about 4 to 5% body fat. Just a big boy and with his pack on he could not easily squeeze through the hatch. He survived to tell the story and became the brunt of jokes for 15 years…so far.

Copy that, you North-bound on Teofilo Noris?

Affirmative. The voice was flat and emotionless.

10-4. Need you to turn off of Teofilo West on to Miguel Hidalgo y Costilla. Go to the first intersection, turn North onto Rodolfo G. Robles, next intersection is Gral Angel Flores. On the Southwest corner is a blue rock façade restaurant. I’m in the door way.

Copy that. Hey they serve hamburgers there? Hatch loved hamburgers.

Cole stepped out and looked up at the sign above the building, rain pelted him in the face, No they serve hamburguesas and ricos desayunos, just for you my boy.

Wayne laughed, Well I got the hamburguesas but the other I’m at a loss for.

‘Rich breakfast’, my son. We might have to have a take-out order depending on how our package looks.

How far from your location is the parcel?

One minute. A wave of tension come over the two knowing what lay in store.

4

But the Spirit explicitly says that in later times some will fall away from the faith, paying attention to deceitful spirits and doctrines of demons,

I Timothy 4:1

It was another Pimsler day! Ever since Joan’s arrival in town she began to call these bright cool sunny days, Pimsler days. Days so full of sun and crispness it was almost too good to be true, all this beauty and a great career to boot. And now the Preachers wife is coming over for some tea and cookies! Joan was so excited and curious about this meeting. Joan was at work when she had received the call form Mary Donny.

Joan, dear, how are you? Mary asked, as Joan was winding up an HR meeting with a group of Booker employees.

Hi Mary, I am so glad you called. I am fine, how are you? Joan responded a bit distracted by the paperwork in her hands, left over from the meeting she just concluded. It always disturbed Joan when she notified twenty for a meeting and generated twenty booklets and only nine show up. Mr. Booker was going to hear about this. She heard Mary say something, I am sorry Mary; I didn’t catch that. Could you repeat that, please?

I said, ‘Do you have plans for this afternoon after work? I would really love to drop by and chat with you for a minute.’

Joan, being the efficient HR Manager that she was, immediately ran her afternoon schedule through her head as she juggled the booklets, the phone and hurried down the hall to her office. She turned the corner and collided with Charles dropping some of the paperwork. Oh I’m sorry, Charles. Joan quickly stated in frustration. To which Mary replied, Excuse me?

Charles had worked for the G.B. Booker Company for 11 years. Single, desperate and hawkeyed on Joan. He bent down and began picking up the papers, grunting out, Joan, Joan, Joanie! You need to slow your roll girl, never taking his eyes off of her. Joan was not exceptionally beautiful but was for Colorado standards, where women, generally, wore pants, didn’t style their hair and wore no make-up, she was very eye pleasing, especially her figure. Joan always dressed with a flare and had the cutest clothes which accentuated the accent, if you know what I mean. Charles was always there looking and wanting to help. No matter what it was! She would go to the copy room and there’s Charles, she would go to the break room and there’s Charles. Leave the building to go pick up supplies and there is Charles! He shows up like a ghost out of the mist except there is never any mist, just Charles! After eighteen months of JUST CHARLES, Joan was getting a bit concerned about Charles. If it weren’t for the other women in the office assuring her that he was quite innocent, Joan might have talked to Mr. Booker about him.

Of course Charles can’t leave well enough alone, Hey, I’m headed to the Or House after work, wan-a-come?

I’m on the phone Charles. Holding up one finger hearing Mary say again, Excuse me, Joan? Are you there? I must be having a bad connection, these crazy cell phones? Mary said to no one.

I’m sorry Mary, yes I’m here. What was it you were saying? Joan’s frustration was growing as she realized that Charles was following her down the hall.

Mary laughing, These crazy cell phones, I thought I heard someone ask me to go to the Or House with them. Joan laughed just thinking of the Preacher’s wife sitting in the Or House with desperately clinging Charlie. Well, any way, Mary continued, I was asking before all the static, if you’re not too awfully busy this afternoon I would love to stop by for a minute or so. Would that be alright?

As Joan entered her office she realized Charles is in his stalking mode. Still on the phone she steps through the door and quickly shuts the door without turning, hoping Charles thinks she did not see him try to come through the door with her. Of course, Mary, I would love for you to come over. Anytime, you know that.

Wonderful, Joan, you are the sweetest thing. To which Joan wanted to say, Well, bless your little heart, but held her tongue. Mary continued, I will see you about five-thirty? OK?

To that Joan replied, Five-thirty it is. See you then, bye, bye. As soon as she clicked off there was a sharp knock at her office door. In her mind’s eye she saw Charles standing on the other side drooling like Pavlov’s dog after hearing the bell. Normally Joan was a very patient person and kind but enough is enough! She marched around her desk to the door and flung it open prepared to give Charles a bit of womanly advise. As she prepared herself and the door swung quick and wide she was taken a-back.

You could have just said, ‘Come in’, Mr. Booker said with a broad cheery smile.

Mr. Booker! I thought it was… someone else. Joan said peering out the door with a start in her voice.

Charles? Booker said with a chuckle.

Well, I, uh, well, yyyes, actually, Joan replied a bit embarrassed.

Mr. Booker walked across the room to an office chair, as he sat down he said, I will speak to Charlie if you like. I would guess he’s probably not your type. Please leave the door open, Joan.

Well, Mr. Booker, Joan felt flushed and didn’t want to say too much. Booker knew it to, so he cut in holding his hands up in a defensive palm out posture, I know you’re a big girl and I am sure you have handled his type before. But, Joan, there are some things a computer programmer doesn’t understand and as far as I can tell Charlie has a tough time understanding the word ‘no’. So if it gets too heavy for you to carry, just tell me and I can help him understand, O.K.? Joan’s look caused Booker to add, Don’t worry, he’ll be fine and you two will still be friends. I’ve handled a hundred Charlie’s.

Joan visibly relieved said, Thank you, Mr. Booker you have always been so kind to us all. And while I got you here, there is something I would like to speak to you about, if you have a minute.

Let me guess, your meeting didn’t go as planned?

How did you know?

Well, they don’t call me Booger Booker for nothing. They both laughed. She was amazed at how well he knew everything about his company and employee’s. How he could read people’s expression and then would answer their questions before they ever asked. And was almost always right! He amazed her and she loved working for his company.

Well, She started, I was a bit concerned with the turn out and as you had said this was a mandatory training session.

What does your schedule look like for tomorrow, Joan? Still holding the smile on his face, This is important and they all know it!

I have a few things to accomplish in the morning but the afternoon looks good. She had her eyes in her day planner.

Great I will have all the ones who missed today attend, if you can handle a class of 31 instead of the usual 20? Booker said with a bit of determination in his voice.

No problem with the class size. I just know this material will assist in the development of a more positive attitude when we are ready to change to the new computer system. People seem so afraid of change at times.

Mr. Booker stood signaling his part of the conversation was over, Joan, I want to say that you are doing an excellent job. I have been reviewing the employee evaluations and they are outstanding. I am proud of myself for having the foresight to hire you! He headed for the door laughing.

Really Joan, you’re doing a great job and we are all happy you’re with us.

Joan was beaming, Mr. Booker was the Father figure she had not had and a boss that she thought didn’t exist anywhere in the world, Thank you Sir!

Don’t call me Sir…’Booger’ will do. His back was turned as he departed through the door still laughing. Mr. Booker was truly an amazing man. Never rattled, always seemed to be on a Sunday stroll everywhere he went. Joan thought, If someone screamed fire, Mr. Booker would be the last out and he’d come out strolling and laughing. What an amazing man.

It was close to 5; Joan gathered her things to leave. Backing out of her office door, she closed it and down the hall she heard a voice call, Hey Joan! You didn’t answer me about the Or House. Yawannago?

Oh brother. No!, She screamed in her mind. She glanced over her shoulder and as she did she saw Booger stroll up behind Charles and say, Charlie, just the man I need to speak to, in his gentle, firm, fatherly way.

That said, you have no choice in the matter Charlie and if you say anything but yes Sir I will pull your pants down and spank you like a 3-year-old right here in the hall. And I will do it to! Joan was kind-of-stuck in limbo watching this little scene play out. Charlie, with a look of ‘uh oh’ on his face, along with total surprise that Mr. Booker came up behind him without a sound; Mr. Booker putting his arm around Charles and turning him the opposite direction in the hall, all the while looking at Joan with a twinkle in his eye and crooked little grin on his face.

Charlie, have you ever heard of the term sexual harassment. Let me help you understand the legal ramifications of that detestable term. She heard him say as she saw Charlie take on the stroll effect of the Booger.

Joan was running late to her 5:30 with ‘The Preacher’s Wife’. Joan always thought the term ‘The Preachers Wife’, sounded like it needed to be in caps. So in her mind it was capitalized. As she turned the corner on to her lovely, clean, tree lined street, feeling relief to be going to her little dream cottage that she absolutely loved, was ‘The Preacher’s Wife’s car parked in front of her house.

Joan pulled up in the drive and jumped out of her car almost before it came to a stop. Mary was already standing on the stone sidewalk leading up to her house, I am so sorry for being late, Mary! Joan said looking over the top of her car.

Late? Mary said rolling her arm up straining to see her watch on her wrist while she held an arm full of study guides against her bosom. You’re not late, Honey. Besides I just got here. Don’t worry yourself.

Joan thought, everyone seems so sweet even after being here for more than a year. Joan cleared the front of the car and said, Thanks Mary. Come on in.

Joan unlocked the front door and as it swished open her senses opened up to the sweet aromas of home, she then stood back letting Mary enter first, Just put the books on the coffee table and have a seat. Would you like some tea? Or coffee? I have some delicious low cal-brownies that I have been dying to tear into. How about you, Mary, would you like one? Joan said as she headed to her kitchen.

Mary had not put the booklets down yet and had not taken a seat but was standing in the entryway with her mouth opened looking at Joan’s beautiful home. Joan, your home is so…so…I don’t know what, so…? Joan helped her speechless friend, Messy? I’m sorry I have been working so hard lately. I just have not had the time to pick the place up.

No, I was going to say beautifully homey. I just love it. I was admiring the outside but the inside is… I just don’t have the words to express how impressed I am with your design abilities and taste. I love it. You’re going to have to come over and tell me what I need to do around my old place! She inhaled deeply letting the wonderful aromas of the house settle into her lungs.

Joan came back into the living room having put the tea pot on to boil and pulling the brownies out of the frig and putting them in the microwave.

Kicking her shoes off, O.K., Joan said plopping down on her favorite love seat as she loudly exhaled, looking expectantly at Mary… living up to her reputation of, ‘How can I help?’

Mary Donny, for all intents and purposes started out in life with one goal in mind and that was to marry a preacher, which she did. Peter Lahey Donny and the pretty Miss Mary Ann Shelley met at their denominations seminary over 25 years ago. Fell in love and were married in the Seminary’s Chapel. Life was good early on for the young couple but as time went on things changed and bleared… what was that old cowboy saying Life’s good as long as you don’t weaken? Poor Peter had heard a different gospel, neither were even sure when it sounded but none-the-less had hollowed both Pete and Mary. Oh Mary jostled about with the ladies club and church functions, as did Pete with all the normal ministry duties and occasionally the Spirit would grab him and he would even preach a semi coherent and meaningful sermon. But most of the time he and others in the Church